under my skin.
@noirxmi
he’s said it time and time again and he’ll say it until the day he takes his last breath but nothing pisses him off more quickly or more intensely than having his kill stolen from right underneath his fingertips. after that scheming weed disappeared a while back, he’d thought his days of having someone snipe his kills for the sole purpose of one-upping him were over. for so long, he went without being disturbed significantly as he completed his tasks from phoenix. even when things were tough, when he had so much more to worry about ( as he does now, also ), he was professional and determined to do the job right. and he did, he almost always did ( we’re all human, after all; human’s make mistakes every now and then ), but tonight is just different. this isn’t an unplanned witness or a victim fighting back, or even unexpected back-up for his target. this is sabotage. this is an insult.
blood splatters against his cheeks and he resists the urge to wipe it away with the ends of his ( mingyu’s ) jacket sleeves. instead, he retrieves a tissue from his pocket and cleans it away, at least enough not to be so obvious even under the moonlight, and turns in the direction the bullet had come from. a silhouette is all he can see, but it’s enough for him to go marching off in their direction, victim left for clean-up to advance on in a few short minutes. god, other people are going to know shadow didn’t finish the job. his blood boils.
“hey, asshole! show your face!” he shouts out once he’s close enough to where he’d seen the figure looming from across the street, one floor up in an abandoned building. though, wonwoo can’t help but notice almost everywhere feels abandoned this time of night since the riots. citizens are still cautious and wonwoo can’t blame them, but right now, he’s fuelled by anger. it feels like the old days, and not in a good way. “c’mon!”